A Question of Time
by TallulahBelle
Summary: For a man that has everything, the one thing that he desires above all else, eludes him the most: Her.


**"A Question of Time" was written for Fandom For Mental Health.**

 **Twilight belongs to S Meyer**

 **For Anne**

 **-o-o-o-o-**

She had named the place to meet.

It was some shitty grill with hot dogs as their specialty, and a yellow banner out front that was an eye sore in this part of town. People normally looked the other way as they passed it. He'd almost forgotten it was there, but the address rang a bell with him as her hushed voice named the time and location.

He sat near the window that overlooked a sidewalk awash with continuous movement. Directly across the street were two of his hotels, and he felt another thrill go through him as he took in their soaring modern classic builds. His pride and joys, as well as his stamp of ownership on this exclusive part of town.

Edward ate a few hot dogs as he waited for her. His men were nearby in case he needed back-up.

He chuckled over that.

 _Back-up in case things went wrong with her? All 5'5" of that slim body of hers. Yeah, she could_ totally _take out his kneecaps._

Lost in thought, he almost missed the hunched form slipping through the glass door. Daylight hit strands of dyed orchid purple and dark mahogany hair, and a blast of cool air from the outside sent her personal scent wafting over to him. She stopped abruptly as she noticed him watching her a few steps away.

Edward felt a shiver as her dark eyes met his. His body responded the same way as it did the last time he was in her presence: with pure lust.

"Mallory," he said simply as he rose to greet her, wiping away the crumbs of his meal on the paper napkin in his hands. The urge to reach for her was like a punch in the gut.

 _Or a tug to his cock._

"Edward," she whispered back, eyes moving over the room like scared prey knowing it was being hunted.

"Please sit down," He motioned with his hand to a plastic chair near his.

Still eyeing him warily, she sat as he reclaimed his own hard chair.

"I knew this was a shitty idea," Mallory mumbled as she shook her head and chewed on her already bitten-down nails.

Edward was still adjusting to the fact that _she_ was sitting not two feet away from him dressed in a mish-mash of worn jeans and what looked like a man's fleece, plus heavy make-up. After all the pleading, the calls, the searching for the last few months, she was here and she was still making him feel things that he wasn't used to feeling for anyone.

He knew that if this meeting went wrong, it would be all over. She would disappear again, and she would make sure that she would stay that way. She had proven that all of his money meant nothing if she didn't want to be found. She was clever, more so than he had originally given her credit for, and that was part of her appeal.

Maybe if he got her to a more private place, he could find out why she sought him out, fix the way things ended when they were last together, and perhaps, just perhaps convince her to stick around awhile longer.

He turned to find her watching him. A spark of that thing they had moved between them, giving him the boost of confidence he needed to speak.

"Look, there's a hotel just across the avenue. We can start over."

"Fuck you," she told him without hesitation; anger written all over her face.

"We can finish what we barely started," Edward continued, not letting her immediate response deter him. "There are two hotels, in fact. We have a choice."

Mallory gave him one last look of defiance before she rose and moved towards the exit. Edward swiftly pulled a twenty from his pocket and slapped it on the counter, following her out the door, and onto the busy sidewalk. She was a few steps ahead of him, recklessly bumping into the oncoming pedestrians. Edward was little better at maneuvering through the crowd, trying to catch up with her. While his longer legs could cover more distance, she was more agile and able to slip into the smaller spaces between nearly-packed, slow moving bodies. It wasn't until the end of the block that Edward found his chance to catch her.

Mallory stopped abruptly as she saw her way momentarily obstructed by the speeding flow of vehicles in front of her. It took her a second to change directions and move to her left to cross the street, but that moment was all that Edward needed as he caught her right arm and stopped her flight.

"Goddamnit!" she hissed swinging her smaller form around to confront Edward.

She stared up at him with such loathing that Edward nearly released her, but he wasn't going to be so merciful now that he had her within reach. _She_ had asked to see him this time and he wanted to know why.

"Behave," was all he said as he turned her and wrapped his arm securely around her waist to take them across the street to one of "hotels" he had mentioned earlier. As soon as they entered the lobby, a flutter of personel hurried to greet him. He was after all, one of the owners of the prestigious place.

"Sir, to what do we owe this pleasure?" asked a man in a grey pin-striped suit with a gold nametag engraved with "John" pinned to his lapel.

"My room," was all Edward said.

John nodded twice, not even bothering to look at the girl standing next to his boss, and moved to lead the way to the private elevator towards the side of the lobby.

Mallory fell silent the moment they entered the gold and black marble lobby. She felt like small potatoes while everyone looked at Edward as if he were the finest champagne. She knew that his expensive suit had nothing to do with it. It was how he stood; very assured and expecting to be obeyed.

They took a black marble paneled elevator to the twenty first floor which could only be reached by a special key supplied by John. It wasn't until they entered Edward's room, with the door firmly shut between them and the rest of the world that Mallory squirmed away from his hold.

Edward stood near the entrance watching as Mallory moved away towards the large floor to ceiling windows on the opposite side of the suite. She was back to chewing on a nail with her other arm wrapped around her middle.

"You called and then you run away," he said quietly, slipping his hands into his pant pockets.

She looked back at him and shrugged.

"Gimme something here," he said a little put out with her silent treatment. "I've been looking everywhere for you with no success, and then out of the blue you call asking me to meet you. It's been _three_ months. Just give _me_ something!"

Mallory stared back at him, looking as if she would run at him at any second and do violence.

"Something? Yeah, like another fuck? Is that what you're hoping for?" She sneered at him, hands balled into fists at her side.

"Jesus Christ! Did I say anything about fucking?"

"You implied-"

"No! I mean yes, I want to fuck you, but not now. I want to know why you called me!"

Both were breathing hard as they tried to calm down from their screaming match. Edward removed his confining tailored jacket and threw it on the nearest chair.

"What are you doing?" Mallory asked suspiciously.

"Taking off my jacket. Stop thinking I'm going to jump you! Now come sit with me and tell me what you need," Edward said as he walked past her to the circular couch in the center of the room.

She watched as he sat and then tentatively took a spot on the farthest end, hunched over with elbows on knees. She looked up at Edward, his arms resting along the top of the padded couch, to find him critically watching her. It was making her uncomfortable.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Money."

Edward nodded for her to go on, showing absolutely no surprise in her request.

"Uh, there's this situation with a guy that showed up at one of my jobs about two months ago. He's been talking to some of the girls about making more money at his special club. Some of them said yes, and left. Three weeks later he came back. This time he talked to me and I said no. Something wasn't right with the guy and all the girls that left with him…well, no one had heard from them. It's not something unusual, but this guy, you know, something wasn't right."

"Do you know the man's name?" Edward asked, leaning forward with an intense look.

"I have it here," Mallory said, digging into her oversized hoodie and drew out a black card. She scooted closer to Edward so that she could hand it to him. He took it from her and read the embossed script.

He took out his cellphone from his pocket and hit a button. Mallory watched him for some sign of what he was thinking as his emotions were closed to her. He was so… _poised_ as he spoke into the phone to one of his people. She knew that he had many that answered to him. Yeah, she had looked him up and saw that he was some hotel property wiz. He had started in stocks and invested well. He was fucking _loaded_ from that gig, but it kept on going from there as soon as he started to turn his hand to properties.

Edward wasn't the only man of his kind. She met dozens of them, but he was the first to show her some sort of respect. He had treated her like she had mattered. It was probably why he was the only one she contacted when she needed help.

When the call ended, Edward sat back and said, "I have someone looking into this James, with no-last-name, and his club. Want to tell me why you need the money?"

Mallory relaxed back into her seat when she didn't hear judgment or condemnation in his voice. "I need the money for one of the girls I'm friendly with, Angela. She went with James during his second visit and she called me two days ago, badly beaten. I took her to the hospital but she's lost everything. James took everything…I think he meant for her to die," she finished with a shiver wracking through her body at the remembrance of a heavily bruised Angela.

"So, you need this money for Angela?" Edward questioned, missing nothing of the fear he saw on Mallory's face.

"Yes, I need to pay the hospital and get her out of town. James came to the club I'm working at and I think he was looking for her. He cornered me during the night and had someone follow me home as well. He looked crazy."

Edward moved closer to Mallory. She had basically turned into a ball on the sofa as she told him her story. He knew that she was only skimming over the details as he saw her body shake in what could only be fear.

He wanted to give her comfort and tell her everything would be okay, but that little voice in his head that gave him the edge in all of his business dealings questioned her sudden appearance.

Curling his fingers into a fist, he denied himself the need to touch her and bluntly asked, "So, Mallory, what do I get for helping you?"

She flinched before she could hide her reaction from him, but unfolded her body from her place on the couch, schooling her features into the best imitation of desire.

"Everything."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Edward moved quietly in the early morning light as he dressed in a dark suit with crisp white shirt. His movements were light, but held such weight as he circled the bed where _she_ lay, face-down with the crumpled sheets hugging her bare hips. Her breath was in easy rhythm, features reposed as he watched her. She looked so innocent.

He thought back to the first time he had met her. Some upscale club called Velvet where she worked.

There were gorgeous women in all states of dress, or more like undressed, who moved around the club making themselves available to whatever the patrons desired. Edward had been taken there by a client from Asia. Women had never been a problem for him. He knew he had looks that gave him easy access to the fairer sex. As soon as he walked into the place, many caressed his arm, thigh, and one bold enough to cup his cock, trying to get his attention. Another tried to sit on his lap, but he passed her onto his companion's, who relished her near-nakedness and large fake breasts. He felt jaded by the whole scene. He was bored. His cock was bored. Nothing aroused him enough. The business deal was simply running through the motions for him. It was another evening he had to endure in order to add more to his multi-billion dollar hotel empire.

As another piece of music came over the sound system, a new dancer moved out onto the stage dressed in a school girl uniform. She moved slowly, with head hung low and long dark hair covering her features. She looked almost ashamed to be there, and tried to hide herself from the audience.

 _Was this her first time?_

She had an air of otherworldliness, and innocence. Something so…untouched.

Intrigued, he had kept watching her.

She moved towards the pole closest to him at a languid pace, one booth away from him, placing her hand high on the metal and swung her body in a graceful arc around it. Her hair flowed away from her face, revealing classical features that were highlighted by the dim lights above her. She looked as if she stepped out of a Botticelli painting with her serenely composed beauty.

His gut and cock tightened, as his mind warred with his body. The need to protect her from all this strange erotic seediness around them, and let her flourish as a rare bloom in a safe place battled with the base need to sink deep within her.

"She's one of my best," a low voice said near his ear.

He turned to see a well-groomed, middle-aged man sitting near him. He smiled when he caught his attention, and held out his hand. Edward automatically took it and shook a little harder than normal to show his displeasure at being interrupted.

"Nice grip. You've passed on all of the girls this evening. Then I noticed you watching my Nightingale," the man said a little smugly.

Edward turned his head back to the girl on the stage to see her move into another arc around the pole, and briefly made eye-contact with her, as her eyes slid to the man beside him for a movement. He caught a flare of annoyance in her quiet gaze as she took them in, but it was brief.

 _Ah, she had spirit. No damsel in distress._

"What do you want?" Edward asked point blank.

"It's not what _I_ want. It's what _you_ want. I'm here to make sure your fantasies are fulfilled."

"What _do_ I want?" Edward nearly laughed at the man, while focusing on the dancer.

"My Nightingale, of course."

" _Of course_."

Edward could see the man shift uncomfortably after his sarcastic reply.

"Look, I can tell you're all about business. The Nightingale is precious, and not just for any man, or woman, but if you name your price, I think I can get her to give you some private time," the man continued as if he was negotiating the sale of a car, rather than beautiful living flesh who looked to have a mind of her own.

Edward took in the last lithe movements of the girl as the song came to a close. Her clothes were mostly still on her body, but that hid nothing of her curves. She swung one last time before the lights were reduced to near blackness. Her eyes focused on him briefly, and his next step was almost out of his control.

"One-hundred, thousand."

-o-o-o-o-o-

" _Everything."_

He had stopped her as she had straddled his lap. She was all sensual affection, and he had not been immune. She was ready to give him everything, but the falseness of her movements when she looked like she was ready to drop from exhaustion, made him stop her.

"Stop it. You're lying," he said, as he took hold of her thin arms and picked her up then dropped her on the seat next to him.

She looked at him stunned.

He stood up, and walked a few paces away from the couch, from her. He faced the windows trying to will his semi-erect cock into submission.

"I thought…" she started to say, but then went quiet.

"Yeah, but you need rest." He turned slightly and motioned her way.

"I'm okay."

He turned back and laughed. "No, you're not. Let's get you changed, and some food in you. I want you coherent when we fuck."

She studied him to see if he was telling the truth. He knew that in her line of work, men told her whatever they wanted in order to get under her skirt. It wasn't far from what he felt when he was working on a deal. He was always wary about what he was being told.

 _I guess we weren't that different in business_.

"Look, tell me where your friend is. I'll make sure she's safe. I'll have someone bring you some new clothes and food. Then I want you to rest."

She still looked skeptical, but finding whatever she was searching for in his face, she relaxed.

"Alright," she said as she placed her feet back on the floor and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Angela is in room 304 at St. Andrews Hospital."

Edward put his jacket back on and was texting his PA as she talked. He could feel her eyes on him the entire time. Something like warmth seeped through his veins as he continued to pace and text. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he did know that she was still there in _his_ suite, and she needed _him_. It was only a question of time for everything else.

When he finished, he looked up to see her dark eyes watching him. A finger found its way into her mouth, as she chewed on her nail, looking vulnerable. The urge to walk over to her and offer comfort was tugging at him. What he had initially hoped to be a rekindling of his previous time with her was turning into something more. He didn't know what to call it, or even where to start to dissect it, but it was a total anomaly to him. Lust he could understand, but this other thing? The fact that he stopped her seduction just moments before said that this thing was big.

They stared at each other for another beat, then he moved towards the front door.

"Stay here," he threw over his back.

Out in the hallway, two of his men were waiting to escort him, but he barely acknowledged them. His mind was on a loop of her, and he knew one thing for certain: he really had no control where she was concerned.

-o-o-o-o-

Hours later, Edward returned to the suite to find the lights on low and the long curtains pulled back to reveal the city looking like a dark fairy-land decorated with magical lights from the buildings surrounding them.

Mallory was asleep on the couch, in new clothes and scrubbed free of all her make-up. A room service tray was on the floor next to her, with a half-eaten burger and fries. He carefully moved the tray aside, to keep noise to a minimum, and knelt down next to her.

After helping her friend, Angela, he found out Mallory had left a lot out of her story about what they went through at the hands of this James character. Angela had provided insight, although a bit slurred as she was on pain medication, into what had changed at Velvet over the past few months. She spoke in-depth when she got Edward's promise not to involve any cops.

A few of the girls had been approached by James' club, with promises of double their salaries. Many went with him, and she didn't speak to the girls who left afterwards. Angela had found herself in a bind, and needed money. When James approached her on his next recruitment, she didn't hesitate. Mallory on the other hand, said no, even though he was persistent.

Angela found out quickly that James let clients fulfill all their desires, including their darkest ones.

Hesitantly she revealed that she almost died from the beatings and repeated rape she suffered from a group of men who wanted to use her like a dog. She had been chained with a collar to a pole in a private room. By sheer luck, she managed to escape when the clients were all high from using heroin. She somehow called Mallory and woke up in the hospital. Later, Mallory tried to get some of her stuff from her apartment, and found it empty. All of Angela's belongings were gone, including her Passport, ID, and every other personal item she owned.

Edward had been horrified by the number of dark violet patches he saw on the girl's body. Not to mention the white gauze covering half of her face and arms. The bedsheets hid the rest of her body. He could only imagine how bad the rest of her looked, but to hear how she was treated was worse than anything he could imagine.

He had a feeling that this James truly meant for the girl to die that evening. Word getting out about what really went down in his club to the "entertainment" could put an end to his business.

That odd feeling ran through him again and he wanted to mock himself for becoming some sort of Patron Saint to Girls of the Night…but if it meant having Mallory…

 _Yeah, he was a real fucking patron saint._

Before he left Angela, he promised to have security that answered only to him watch over her until she was well enough to leave the hospital. He also found himself promising to help her build a new life and get her identification.

A movement from the couch brought him out of his thoughts. Edward's hand was resting against Mallory's head. It seemed he had been smoothing back her hair from her face while lost in thought.

"How did it go?" she asked. Propping her head up with her hand, she made no move to sit up or put distance between them. His hand dropped to her shoulder, fingers still entwined with her long hair.

Edward started to speak, but stopped himself. Saying everything was going to be okay didn't feel right. Not after seeing what her friend Angela had been put through, and the fact that it could have been Mallory instead. His gut tightened at the thought.

Mallory sat up and placed her hands on either side of his face, tilting it to look up at her. She looked at him with concern before she placed her lips on his forehead in a comforting kiss. Something like "right" thrilled his system. He could have died right there and called it his best life experience. No one had ever shown such care towards him. Not even his parents, the cold bastards. That weird feeling towards her returned to slam him in the stomach.

 _Sick, right?_

"Edward, relax. No need to talk," Mallory told him as she pulled him to lie with her on the couch. He instantly curled around her, taking in her scent as he laid his head against her soft breast. She wrapped her arms around him, and comforted him with soothing strokes through his thick hair.

-o-o-o-o-

Edward didn't sleep with her that night. He slept on the couch and let her have the bed. It wasn't until he felt her loss at his side that he wondered what to do next.

He had thought that when he saw her, it would be easy to talk her into a more permanent schedule that would satisfy his physical desire for her, but that was all shot to shit. He thought of nothing but himself until she told him what she needed from him, where she'd been, and how close she'd come to disappearing forever.

God, why did he have to think more of her than a fuck? That's what all of the others had been in his life up until that point. Why her?

His cock was in a state of semi-hardness around her. He wanted to claim her physically, like some caveman, but her vulnerable state left his brain working on another level. He remembered thinking that way before, albeit briefly, when he first met her at Velvet.

The gentleman had led him to a dimly lit backroom that was furnished with a dark red velvet couch and a low coffee table that looked like a mini stage. A bottle of champagne had been placed in a bucket next to his seat with a pair of crystal flutes. A few minutes after he was seated the door directly on the other side of the table opened and in stepped the Nightingale.

Jesus, she was more stunning up close.

He shifted to give is cock a little breathing space as just the sight of her loveliness left him hard. She looked all soft with large dark eyes. She watched him with just as much interest as he did her.

"Hello," was all he said, as words seemed to leave him.

"Hello," she said in return before she stepped up on the table and slowly walked towards him.

She stopped at the edge, standing before him in her schoolgirl uniform with her hands on her hips.

"What is your pleasure this evening?" she asked in a hushed voice that sent a current of lust through him.

Images of her mouth on him, sucking hard. Of her bent over in front of him, as he drove his cock into her, as she screamed out her orgasm. Breasts bouncing in front of him as he pounded up into her. His mouth on her pussy, as he licked her pretty little bud.

All of those scenarios flashed through his mind. He wanted to devour her, as she devoured him.

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything."

She didn't appear to be phased in the least. She stepped down from the table and stood between his legs. Her bare thigh brushed against the hand that rested against his knee, as she bent to pluck up the bottle of champagne. She deftly popped opened the bottle, and easily poured two glasses. She placed the bottle back in the bucket and sat on the seat, next to him.

Edward watched in complete fascination at the way she moved. She as all grace and slow feminine movements. Her manners were that of a lady, but her outfit was that of another type of woman. She was a mystery to him; a challenge that he hadn't ever felt around a woman.

Oh, he paid to have her tonight, but what would she grant him?

"What do I call you? Nightingale?" he asked as she sat right by him, with her hand on his thigh, sipping champagne.

"You may call me Mallory."

It rang a little wrong in his head, but this wasn't a place of honesty.

"I'm Edward."

She smiled, and gave him an odd look. "Old-fashioned, but it seems to suit you."

"Thank you," he replied, and placed his glass on the table. She followed suit, and turned to face him.

"You seem not of this world, Mallory," he began, as he lightly caressed her cheek down to her plump bottom lip. "You seem made of something like fairy dust. Like you will disappear at any moment."

She laughed lightly over his description of her. He liked the sound of it, and it added to his thoughts of her gossamer existence.

"I'm real," she told him and she moved her hand upwards, lightly covering his crotch on the way up his chest. She worked on removing his tie, and undid a few buttons on his shirt.

He has never felt so seduced by such a small act.

"May I kiss you?" he asked, moving closer.

She looked a little stunned at his question, but nodded her head. He moved in, still uncertain that she wouldn't poof out of the room if he rushed things.

The first taste of her was champagne and sweetness. As she reciprocated his movements, he showed her more of his hunger. He pressed her into the soft cushions as he tried to get closer. He fit well between her legs and they both moaned when his arousal collided with hers. Both rubbed against each other seeking more of the same sensation, taking up a rhythm that at first was tentative, but moved into something more desperate, seeking climax.

He thought the fantasy of her fit well with the reality.

They both came hard, moaning and cursing, clinging to prolong their pleasure.

Edward raised his head to look at Mallory, who was heavy-lidded, and flushed. When she noticed him watching her, she raised her eyes to his and smiled, pressing a swift kiss to his mouth in a sort of thank you.

"God, I need more of you. Please tell me I can have more."

She laughed lightly, and nodded her head. Edward pressed his lips back to hers, taking whatever he could as he began to remove their clothes. He wanted no barriers between them this time. She had been as enthusiastic about being with him as he had been with her. Her body, when undressed, was perfection. Soft breasts that fit just right into the palm of his hands. Rosy nipples that puckered upon touch. Hips and legs that were meant to cradle his own, and a pussy with dark curls that would welcome his cock and tongue.

After an hour or so, she had gotten up and started to dress. He was still on the couch, somewhat exhausted, and somewhat rejuvenated. For whatever it was called, it wasn't just sex.

"Mallory," he said quietly. She turned back to him with that small smile on her face, half dressed. "Thank you."

She shook her head like it was a silly thing he said. "No, thank you, Edward."

Before he lost his nerve, he asked, "Would you like to come be with me for a while?"

"This was only a moment, Edward. I will think of you always for being so kind to me," she told him, finishing her dressing. She moved to sit next to him on the edge of the couch.

"Think about it. I would like to see you again. Take you to dinner, maybe a show…" he said, drifting off.

Mallory said nothing but smiled, and leaned down to kiss him lightly on his lips.

"I have to go. Thank you for a lovely evening," was all she said.

Disappointment ran through him at her rejection, no matter how sweetly she put it. Jesus, he really was into the girl.

Edward reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a card with his info on it.

"If you change your mind, this is how you can reach me," he told her as he passed her the card. She took it and gave him one last smile before she left the room.

He tried to see her again the next night, but was informed it was her day off. He spoke with the owner, but was told the same thing. Then he tried the again the next night, and the night after. No sign of her. It really was as if she had never existed except in the deepest part of his fantasies. He did everything to find her, but she had eluded him…until now.

He knew that he wasn't going to sleep, so he carefully moved in the bedroom to get a new suit. Mallory was asleep on the bed, with only the sheet covering her. His hands shook at the sight of her near-nakedness. He wanted so badly to climb in there and fuck her again and again.

Instead he left her a note that he would be back later.

-o-o-o-o-

The crumple of paper near her hand woke her up. In the darkened room, she couldn't make out the writing, but instantly sat up while reaching for the light on the small table near the bed.

After reading the hand-written note, she sighed.

And then she worried.

-o-o-o-o-

It took two phones calls to set up a meeting with this James.

Except James thought this would be a different sort of meeting.

Jasper, the man who owned the private security that Edward used, agreed to come as a client looking for something different by way of female entertainment. They would be accompanied by two of Jasper's best men as back-up.

"You know, the money really means nothing to me," Jasper said, after learning why they were visiting James. "I have no tolerance for pigs that beat on women."

"Look at it as a thank you bonus to go on vacation," Edward told him, as they waited in the back of the black town car outside a non-descript brick building, in the same part of town that his most exclusive hotels dominated.

Jasper snorted, but their conversation was cut off as a very large man in a suit opened the door to the brick building. Jasper's man in the front, passenger seat got out and opened the door against the curb, letting Edward out first.

The man at the door stepped aside to let them through with only a greeting of "Welcome."

Edward traveled down a dark hallway behind one of the security men with Jasper and his second bringing up the rear. They stepped into a room that was still very dark, but sconces along the wall gave him enough light to see that black leather couches lined the room with a dark wood bar in the corner. A bartender already stood inside his booth, ready to serve.

"Your host will be here shortly," the large man told then as he bowed out of the room.

Almost immediately a rather cheery voice came from the door through which the large man had left.

"Edward Cullen. I am indeed honored to have you here in my club."

A platinum blond man, in a well-tailored pin-striped suit came forward with a smile and a handshake. Edward introduced himself and "his client."

"Please have a seat and tell me what I can do for you," their host told them, the smile never leaving his face. A smile that sent a chill through Edward's spine, knowing it wasn't sincere.

"Something unique, I hope," Edward replied.

James laughed. "Of course."

"What do you suggest? I'm rather bored by the usual, and want something unforgettable."

James smile grew wider. "I may have the thing for you two. She's a wonderful filly, and obeys all commands. I can have her saddled up for you in a few. My man Louis will escort you in a few, but meanwhile, enjoy a drink."

James left the room, and Edward felt the urge to pace. Meanwhile the bartender brought them scotch, including the "security team." Jasper pretended to have a sip or two, but Edward had been warned not to drink anything when they arrived as a precaution.

"Gentlemen, please follow me." The large man, Louis, beckoned them.

Jasper and Edward followed the man into a circular room that was lined with curved black leather couches. In the center was an empty space meant for the entertainment, while the walls were the opposite. They were filled with many bondage pieces…and some that looked to be used for true torture towards the back of the room. Including the pole Angela described as the thing she had been attached to.

"Gentlemen, your filly will join you shortly. This room will hold all sound. You may do anything with and to her until you are satisfied. There is a bell by the door. If you wish for something please ring, and you will be attended."

Louis left the room, which left Jasper and Edward alone. Jasper went up the all to study the pieces closest to him, but Edward felt a level of nausea and anger hit him, which brought him sitting heavily down on the couch.

The door opened, revealing not a girl as promised but a man even bigger than Louis, along with a few others, plus James.

"Change of plans, I'm afraid," James told them, smile firmly in place. "You think I don't know why you're here Cullen? You think I don't know you have Angela or the other girl? You think your money can save you? I'm afraid I can't let you interfere in my business."

As the men entered the room, Jasper had moved to stand in front of Edward, all pretense of show gone. The four men had surrounded them, edging the two of them into the center of the room.

"You think I won't get what's mine? As soon as we dispose of you, I'll go collect the girl in your suite, and then finish the other in the hospital."

"You're sick," Edward sneered.

James shrugged his shoulders without losing his smile which was becoming more and more sadistic.

"Take out the other one. I plan to play with Cullen here for a bit," James ordered, but Jasper moved fast and used his fists, now decorated with brass knuckles, against the throat of the man closest to him, then shot his other fist into one of his kidneys. Edward, not as superior in fighting skills as Jasper, used what training he had and threw one of the men against the other, knocking them to the floor.

James backed away to the door, as Jasper took down another man, and looked to see where the others were. Edward tackled James against door, never letting him have the chance to open it.

"Didn't you say this room contains sound?" Edward asked as he had James' face smashed against the hard wood with his arm twisted behind his back, almost to breaking position.

"I'll leave you alone man. I promise. Let me go," James started to plead.

"No, fucker. You meant for us to die, and then those women who did nothing to you."

"Edward, let me finish," Jasper said, a hand on his shoulder. "Keep yourself clean."

As Edward started to move, James, like a snake, turned towards him ready to strike. Jasper grabbed James' wrist and twisted hard, forcing the man to his knees with a scream.

"Go get the others, and then get yourself out of here. I'll finish this and get my contacts at the nearest police precinct to help with this.

"Thank you," Edward said.

The two men that came with them were still in the front. They both moved towards him when they saw his disheveled clothes.

"Go! Jasper needs your help. I'll be at the suite in Tower Two," Edward told them, running on adrenaline. He was able to get a cab, and was back at the hotel in what felt like seconds.

His staff practically ran to him as he walked through the doors, but he shooed them away only wanting one thing. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment.

The guards outside his suite doors were also alarmed by his appearance and asked after him. He waved them away, too. As he opened the door, he saw her silhouetted against the afternoon light streaming through the windows. She turned and gasped as she saw him.

"Edward, you stupid…foolish… _goddamn you_!"

"It's done. No more James. You're free," Edward said.

She stood there, mere feet away from him, trembling and crying. She closed the space between them, and wrapped her arms around his neck as she buried her face against his chest. Edward nearly slumped against her, but equaled the fierceness of her hold around him.

"Edward, thank you."

"No, don't tell me that. I was selfish. I did all of this because I was selfish. I wanted nothing to stop you from being mine."

"Edward-"

Trembling himself, he laid it all out on the line. He had to let her hear the rest of his thoughts.

"I wanted you safe. I wanted you never to feel that level of fear again. I wanted you to choose who you worked for, or didn't work for. I wanted you to…I just wanted you," Edward told her, still standing in the same place, not sure how to proceed from there as he felt he left too much of himself in her lap.

She pushed back a little in order to look up at him. She reached to smooth some of his hair down, and gave him a tremendous smile.

"But I am yours," she whispered.

Edward felt a little sick and elated. Feeling that she was giving him gratitude due to what he had done for her. She would make sure he would be truly well and paid by his use of her body. His stomach turned sour at the thought. He couldn't deal with the falseness of it.

"No…no," he told her pushing her away. "Please don't think you'll give me payment. Please don't. I can't do fake."

She reached for him, and lifted his face with her hands so that he would look at her. His miserable expression hurt her heart. The man had done for her what no one else had in her life.

'No fakeness, Edward," she began. "I think the moment I saw you at Velvet, I was yours."

He tried to shake her off, but she held him still.

"I may have danced for others, but I've never been with them like I've been with you. I only danced for them."

He lifted his hands to place them on her waist, feeling some hope at her words. He stared into her dark eyes, and then down to her lush lips.

"Why did you run away?" He asked quietly.

"Because I would have stayed with you, and I didn't want to be just a fuck to you. You would have tired of me, and I don't think I could take that. You would have broken me."

Edward crushed her body to his, hearing his first thoughts mirror what he thought now. Yes, he probably would have used her and then thrown her away, but time had made him crave her more, and then when she was back in his life, he realized how precious she really was. A lone nightingale singing a song that called to the only one who could hear her longing for a true match.

"Oh god, it's not like that anymore," he told her as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I know. I know."

"When I saw your friend Angela, it hurt to know that could have been you. Knowing that there was someone out there ready to hurt you for pleasure, killed me. I wanted you free."

"Edward, answer me truthfully," she started "What do you want to happen now?"

"Everything. Just…god, everything."

His features were passionate in response. She could see that what he felt was more than sex. She had known when he refused her that first evening and took care of her in every way possible, including giving her the bed to sleep in, while he took the couch. The way he asked for realness and nothing false. It was the way they had cuddled on the couch, and it was now when he came to her after getting rid of the threat over her life.

"I think I can do everything," she told him.

He bent down and took her mouth in a hungry kiss, wincing slightly as he felt a wound near his lip.

"Everything," she whispered again, lathing her tongue against his lips.

"Everything, Mallory. Everything I am is yours," he whispered tenderly.

"Bella. My real name is Isabella."

He smiled fully as he picked her up to carry her to the bedroom. "I'll give you everything, Bella."

"As I will, Edward."

 **-o-o-o-o-**

 **Thank you to Jeaboo1, CupcakeDivaFF, and BornonHalloween (Kaye P. Hallows) for creating Fandom For Mental Health. Check out their website for more information on why this this particular cause was championed. Google "Fandom For Mental Health."**

 **Mental Illness is nothing be ashamed of if you, or a loved one, has it. There are more ways to help someone suffer less in this already hard world. Do not think for a moment that your life is less than anyone else's.**


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